Chapter 6
Ava
Iswear my heart stops beating.
All those books I’ve read, all those daydreams I’ve dreamed are nothing, nothing compared to the feeling of Stinger’s lips pressing against mine.
They’re cold at the edges, but warm in the center and real soft.
Then he angles his jaw and kisses me deeper.
Instinctively, my own lips part and I welcome him in.
For the first time in my life, a man’s tongue touches my own, soft and velvety.
Immediately, it lights a fire inside me.
“Ava,” he murmurs against my mouth. His cold fingertips tangle in my hair, while his other arm goes around my waist, holding me tight against his big furnace of a body.
He’s tender at first, like he’s scared of hurting me, then he gets fiercer, hungrier, and I love it.
Love how possessive he is. Little moans and sighs of pleasure escape my lips.
He draws back, his ice-blue gaze searing me.
I go still, my heart beating hard. Wondering what he’s thinking.
“I’m taking you to my rig,” he growls.
“Yes,” I say. Because there’s nothing else to say. All I want is to be alone with him, indoors. His body wrapped around mine. Naked.
“Come on.” He sweeps me up into his big arms, and he’s carrying me, half-running, while the snow falls heavily all around us.
We arrive at a huge, burgundy-colored rig.
He unlocks the door, then he carries me up the steps. He flicks a light on and shuts the door, and—silence. Everything else is closed out—the snow and the howling wind and the diner full of assholes. It’s just me and Stinger, in his lair.
I’m safe, I think, looking around. The truck’s cab is dark, masculine, and a little bit dangerous—just like him.
But it’s also tidy. I’d kind of assumed truck drivers would be slobs.
But Stinger’s place is well-looked after, and I get the feeling he takes pride in it.
There’s a microwave and a comfy-looking sleeping area.
“You’re all wet,” he says, fingering the ends of my hair.
“Just my hair,” I say, but I know that’s not true. Because I can feel that my panties are also wet—with desire for him.
“Let me get you a towel.” He pops open a cupboard door and takes out a fresh-smelling white towel.
I go to take it from him, but he keeps hold of it and insists on drying my hair himself, rubbing it down painstakingly. I watch him, stunned that he’s capable of such gentleness.
When he’s done toweling my hair, he gives his own head a cursory rub.
Then he pulls me into his arms again.
There’s none of the hesitation of before. His lips crush against mine, and an answering hunger pours through me.
He sits back down on his bed, tugging me onto his lap. I come with him, so my arms loop around his neck and I’m straddling his thick waist.
He kisses me hard, rough. “So beautiful,” he rasps, his hands running up my back and along my arms.
I scoot closer to him, wanting to feel as much of his body against me as possible.
And then I feel it—a big bulge pressing against my crotch.
His cock. He’s hard for me. A thrill goes right through me.
When I rock against it, a spark of pleasure lights my core.
I try again, and again, rubbing myself back and forth against his length.
“Jesus, Ava,” he mutters. “If you don’t quit doing that, I’m not gonna be able to control myself.” He looks tortured, pained, and I swear it’s the sexiest thing in the world.
“Maybe I don’t want you to,” I say.
His eyes lock onto mine, his irises turned dark and stormy, with a pale ring around them. “You know what you’re saying?” he growls.
I bite my lip. This wasn’t at all how I imagined my first time happening.
Maybe it’s the rum, maybe it’s the relief of being saved from those assholes, but I want this more than I’ve wanted anything in my life.
“I’ve never… I mean, I’m a vir—” I break off. I can’t bring myself to say the words. Both my younger sisters are married already. I’d started to wonder if it was ever going to happen for me.
“A virgin? I know.” He gives a growl, low in his throat.
I stiffen. “Is it the way I smell, or something?” I mutter.
He nods seriously. “I can smell your innocence. Your sweet cherry.”
Then his nostrils flare. “We wolves can be rough when we mate.”
Rough.
A shiver runs through me. Nerves and desire intertwined. A little whimper of uncertainty escapes my lips.
“Tell me to stop,” he says, low and raspy. “Any time.”
His hands go to my drenched shirt and he starts to lift it.
When he gets it up to my rib cage, I help him with trembling hands. I’m kind of shy about my body. I’ve always been curvy. But the sounds of appreciation he makes as he strips it off sweeps all my worries away. His big hands cup my breasts through my bra, and he lowers his face to my cleavage.
Holy moly, this feels good. His fingers go to the clasp on my bra and I arch my back to help him. He unfastens it, like he’s done it a hundred times before, and I hold my breath as he eases it off me.
I’m twenty-five years old, and no man has ever seen me naked. He gives a husky sigh as my bra falls away and my tits are exposed to him.
With a rush of self-consciousness, my hands fly up to cover them.
But he catches my wrists and holds me still as he takes me in.
“Beautiful,” he sighs. And then he takes them in his mouth.
This is nothing like in the romance novels. He’s fierce, hungry, like he’s feeding off me.
Sucking on my aching peaks, his teeth grazing the tips.
Sending shivers blasting all the way through me.
I grind my heated crotch back and forth along the length of his cock. The friction feels so good. Pulsing, tingling sensations build up inside me.
Stinger moves from one nipple, then the other, then back again, each one impatient for his attentions.
“Ava,” he groans.
I look down at him, his face taut with yearning, his cock big and swollen with desire for me, and suddenly, I feel sexy.
I don’t want foot rubs and rose petals sprinkled on the sheets of a canopy bed. I want this big, fierce truck driver to claim my virginity, right here in his lair.
“Want me to stop?” he rasps.
I shake my head. “No. Not at all.”
A growl of need breaks from his throat.
I clamber off his lap and unfasten my jeans, then I shuck them down. The way his gaze rakes me, following my every movement, makes me feel like a goddess. Then his eyes zero in on my panties. I can tell they’re drenched now, and I wonder if it’s left a mark. I take a deep breath.
I’m gonna do this, before I lose my nerve. I hook my thumbs into the sides and I slide them all the way down. When I straighten up again, my cheeks are burning, but so is my pussy. I watch Stinger watching me, and so much arousal pours through me, I feel dizzy.
“Come here,” he growls. He snatches my hips and draws me toward him again. I brace my hands on his massive shoulders and my legs spread wide as I clamber onto his lap, opening me to him.
I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him hard and deep. I love the feeling of being naked while he’s fully clothed, his plaid shirt rubbing against my bare skin. And when my pussy presses against his cock, I just about levitate.
“You’re a goddess,” he murmurs. “I swear I dreamed you up today.” And then he slides his hand between my legs.
I cry out, right into his mouth. No one said it felt like that to be touched by a man.
“Christ, you’re wet,” he murmurs in my ear.
I let out a groan. “Because I want you,” I tell him.
His body stiffens. “You do?” There’s a flicker of uncertainty in his voice.
“Are you kidding me?” I give a little laugh. “I want you so much it’s ridiculous.” He gives a low rumbling growl, and he strokes me lightly, spreading my wetness all over my pussy.
“Where do you want me?” A finger slides down to my entrance.
“Mmm…there,” I gasp out.
“Here?” His finger circles around.
Damn, he’s going to tease me. “Yes, right here.” I jerk my hips toward him, and suddenly, his thick finger is entering me.
“Fuck,” I gasp as it slides in like liquid fire. I’ve never had anything inside me before.
“So tight, so tiny,” he mutters. “Little virgin pussy.”
Before I know it, I’m grinding my hips, riding his finger. My muscles clench tight around him and heat floods my entire body.
“You want me to take your virginity?”
“Uh huh,” I manage to say. His finger feels like a lot, filling me up. I don’t know if there’s gonna be space for his cock.
But I’m ready for him. Ready for all he’s got to give me.
I reach for the buttons on his shirt, but he’s faster than me. He unfastens the first three, then he tears the whole thing over his head.
I still at the sight of his body. He’s all muscle. Shoulders, pecs, biceps. Contours like a mountain range. A romance cover hero, times ten. I give a sigh of delight and run my hands all over him.
When my hands slide down to the waistband of his jeans, I hesitate. His cock juts out, tenting the front of his jeans. I’m scared of the monster I’m about to unleash. My hand closes over the tip and he hisses out a sigh. My pussy clenches.
I want this.
Need him inside me.
He helps me pull down his zipper, and his cock springs out. Thick, long, even more massive than I expected. He takes my trembling hand and wraps it around his shaft. It feels hot, but as smooth as silk.
“I’m gonna make you feel real good,” he growls.
“Yeah?” I say, uncertainly, wondering again how the hell it’s going to fit inside me.
“Come closer.” He shuffles me another couple of inches toward him, and then he presses the tip of his cock to my wet pussy.
Oh God. This does feel good.
“Nice and slow,” he croons. “Gotta make sure you’re ready for me.” He slides it up and down my slit, from my clit, to my aching entrance, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through me. Before I know it, my hips are making little jerks, working it towards my entrance.